On our wedding day, one of the wedding guests made sure to tell us how hard marriage is. She grabbed my brand new husband and me not long after the ceremony and looked us dead in the face. 
“I was there,” she said ominously. “You made this covenant and I witnessed it.” 
Awkward fake laughter ensued as she moved on through the receiving line. Her seemingly feeble and frightened husband nodded and added, “Marriage is a tough institution.”
He then fell in line behind her.
Neither of us have forgotten the warning.
We laugh every time we tell the story.
For several weeks we have been brainstorming ideas for our upcoming road trip to commemorate these 30 years of marriage. It seems an appropriate time to embark on something we have never done.
Yes, there have been plenty of road trips. We realized, however, we have not once taken off wholly alone for more than a couple of days. It was by no means intentional. It was just life—mainly life with a growing family and jobs and responsibilities. The details of this “tough institution.”
Regardless of the hows, as I began to plan the westward launch I became increasingly aware of the unknowns like traveling to places we have never been on roads we have never traveled. It seems exhilarating and the anticipation has been building.
That was right up until the excessive heat warning.
While looking for directions from one city to the entrance of the Grand Canyon National Park, my app popped up with an excessive heat warning complete with warning colors and exclamation points! While the warnings seem more common than not these days, I was bothered by the fact that it was as if the app was trying to avoid showing me the route. When I attempted to pull up the details it would only offer the option to read more about the warning. It was as if it was saying, it’s too dangerous to go. You can’t handle this.
The trip includes travel through desert-like areas, mountainous regions, thousands of miles of unknown-to-us roads. The excitement ahead had made me think of all there is to look forward to, not what might go wrong. 
Until this stupid map warning.
It is like the unknown road way back on our wedding day, when we shrugged off the family friend’s own excessive heat warning.
You nod and smile and agree without knowing what you are really doing or even getting into. 
In reality, no one knows what is coming, married or not. We cannot stop life from happening. 
There will be the unexpected phone call with the devastating news.
The pregnancy test that slowly reveals a second purple line.
The job offer that never comes.
The job offer that does come.
Sweet whispers meant for only you.
Angry retorts that feel undeserved.
The pregnancy test that slowly reveals a second purple line, again. And again. And in our case, again and again.
Birthdays, funerals, weddings, graduations, days when there is more than enough money to pay bills and days when there is not nearly enough to pay the bills.
The days that make you think no one has a relationship like ours and the days when you think no one would want a relationship like ours. 
The warnings can bring attention to it, but wide-eyed newly weds most likely will ignore it.
But thirty years in, do we heed the warnings now?
The trip planned is never the trip experienced. You prepare the best you know how. You pray your way through and survive as long as you are able. There will always be unknowns but it doesn’t mean you don’t go down that road. 
The heat can kill you, but it is obviously all about the protection.
Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego could tell you. They were willing to stand strong to honor God because they knew they had Him and He had them. They also knew that if they were not going to be protected from this particular circumstance, He still had them. He was trustworthy in the most dire circumstances, whatever life brought. They were not alone. They knew the God of all creation was with them.
Turns out, He took the heat for them.
He has taken the heat for us.
Our wedding guest was right. It is a covenant, one that was kept by Him.
Failure after failure, hurt feelings, perverted motives, wrong turns, desert stretches—all have been completely covered by His covenant keeping. There is always suffering along the way, but when you follow the Savior of the world, it is all always worthwhile. 
The only way to real life, life that gets you through 30 years is through that death to self. The amazing part is what is born from that dying—the beauty that cannot be found any other way.
It has been a crazy journey, but my husband and I—sometimes with feeble and wobbly faith—are choosing to consider the warning and take the road knowing the King of kings has planned the trip. He has gone ahead and come behind. Though we don’t see what is coming, He does.
I wonder what lies ahead and I pray for safety and fun times, but inherent in the trip will be the unknowns. They could be scary stories to repeat with trepidation later or hilarious ones we can’t quit laughing long enough to finish.
Maybe we will find traces of aliens, cheesy gift shops, fantastic photo ops. Whatever we find, I am so thankful we will find it together. I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else. Together we have ignored some warnings and heeded others. Together we have learned about each other and challenged each other. Together we hold onto True Love.
We probably do more of it wrong than we do right, but we are still making our way down the road.